The Ledge
by QNeverbutt
Summary: Tumblr prompt by otpprompts [an insert your OTP kind of prompt] Peter is depressed and broken down, sick of the constant pressure of his son. He's only 17. It just isn't fair. When he decides to end it all, he is disrupted by a random, blonde-haired stranger walking by who just isn't about to let this beautiful human end his life. AU (Panlix)


_Tumblr Prompt by otpprompts_

_All rights go to none other than Adam Horowitz and Eddy Kitsis_

_Except for Rene because, well, we didn't find out who Rumple's mama was. Sooooo here we go:_

The Ledge

It was a cold, autumn day. Snow was starting to fall from the sky even though it was only mid-October. Frost clung to the surface of the bridge's metal barrier. And while it was only a flurry at the moment, few people were on the road as a precaution for the blizzard the meteorologists were predicting. It was a bit incredible, a snow storm in October; but not unheard of. It was England, after all, and so the weather tended to be quite ridiculous at the most unfortunate of times.

Of course, it seemed quite fortunate for one lost soul who traced his bare fingertips along the cold, metal surface. He wore nothing more than a forest green t-shirt that hung loosely on his delicate frame and a pair of straight pant, black jeans. His chestnut hair had flakes of white snow coating his head by now, and his lips were turning a light shade of violet. Peter's body shook uncontrollably, from the cold or from what he was about to do, he wasn't entirely sure. He looked down at the bottom and nearly threw his head back from the dizziness that engulfed him. It was a far drop, maybe 70 feet. But, he was tired and sick of the responsibility of the child that was forced upon him.

It wasn't his fault he accidentally knocked up some girl who just happened to _love _fairy tales, which is what attracted him to her. Because of his name. His stupid, clever name. She used to call herself his "lost girl" and he went along with it because sex with her was pretty fucking good. She named their son Rumplestiltskin, quite idiotic. She died during childbirth and he got stuck with the responsibility of the babe. The mother, Rene, was just some chick he met on the streets. He was homeless and so was she, and he was attracted to her so why not run together? It was all in good fun until they stayed in one spot for too long. People got to know them because Rene was such a social person. So when Rene said she was pregnant, he was stuck. Peter stayed with a friend Rene had made so he didn't get arrested. He hated the baby. He hated Rene. He hated himself. He couldn't take the constant cries and screaming for "daddy". He was only 17, he wasn't ready to be a dad. And yet the responsibility was thrust upon him all because he was just having a little fun. And Peter sure as fuck didn't want to deal with social workers, either.

So, after hours of work, hours of taking care of the pink larvae sucking away his life, he got up and left. He just kept walking and walking and walking. Peter didn't really care what happened to Rumple. He figured his roommate would take care of him anyway or bring him to an orphanage, or something.

And now he stood before the bridge. He felt numb inside. Cold. Empty. There was a dull feeling in the back of his mind that resembled guilt. He rested the palms of his numb hands on the freezing edge. The cold left a mild ache on his skin. Peter pushed up and sat on the barrier. His fingers gripped tightly on the edge, his knuckles turning white. He looked across the way, staring at the soft flakes spiralling in increasing speed as if in a dream. He began to feel a bit drowsy and looked down, almost welcoming the fall.

"Don't…"

His eyes shot open, fully alert again and his fingers gripping harder. He turned to meet eyes with the human who was stopping him from his salvation.

"What?" Peter snapped.

The stranger looked almost shocked. "Don't…jump. Please."

Peter eyed the boy who was slowly approaching him. He was tall and had strong bone structure, possibly a year older than him. He was wearing a wool coat and a scarf tied securely around his neck. His pants were tighter than straight jeans, but looser than skinny. He identified the stranger's accent as American and lifted an eyebrow in slight interest.

"Well, that request was quite ridiculous."

"What?" The stranger asked, perplexed.

Peter turned back around and looked out at the sheets of snow laying on top of each other on the road. "Telling me not to jump. It's quite cliché. So, _don't_." He repeated the strange boy's own word in mockery.

He could hear the boy approaching. "Aren't you cold?"

"I don't think that hardly matters considering I'm about to kill myself."

His eyes turned back to the tall boy with the sandy hair. He was closer than expected…and he was quite beautiful. Sure, Peter was used to the usual sexual attractions but people rarely ever struck him with that natural, actual beauty. He never described anyone as that. And the boy's eyes, a beautiful greenish blue that he wished he could dive into. "Who are you?" He asked.

"Felix." The boy answered. "And you?"

"Peter. Peter Pan." He smirked.

Felix climbed on the ledge and sat next to Peter. "Seriously? Peter Pan?" His voice playfully patronising.

"I'm a lost boy, and the best." He paused. "Obviously not literally."

Felix let out a feathery laugh. "Obviously," he agreed.

Peter felt his chest clench at the sound.

"So, why are you choosing to end your life?"

"Straight to the point."

"Straight to the point," Felix repeated in confirmation.

"I don't know if you'll approve of my reasoning, or – if you should succeed in making me climb down –if you would force me to accept my past." He looked at Felix's face. "Then again, I don't really care." He smirked, his eyebrow quirking up. "I got a girl knocked up, she died while birthing him, I don't want a kid, and I just want out."

Felix was silent for a moment and Peter, for the first time, felt a sudden fear of disapproval; from a complete stranger, no less.

"I understand."

Peter's mouth uncharacteristically fell open. "Wait, what?"

"My father left before my youngest sister was born, my mother dying 4 years later. I was forced with the responsibility of watching them. I was only 12. We lived in the shittiest town you can think of so no one really gave a damn if there wasn't a parent around, it was just so common." He was looking out across the blindingly white roads, his hands in his pockets. "Once I turned 18, I bailed. My other sister was 16 so I didn't care. It was more so an obligation taking care of them, anyway. So much of my childhood was taken away, I hated them for it. So I jumped ship here on a crappy cargo ship." He looked over at Peter who was watching him intently. "I guess I'm glad I did."

"Why?" He knew the question was imbecilic and he was sure he knew the answer already, but he had to ask. He had to hear it from Felix.

"Because then I would have never met you."

Peter knew what he was going to say, but he still felt his stomach erupt into a volcano of butterflies. He restored his cheeky expression and lifted his chin.

"Now, _that's _ridiculous."

Felix laughed heartily. "Did I convince you not to?" He shrugged off his coat and placed it around Peter's shoulders.

Peter sighed, "Yes."  
"Good." Felix nimbly got off the ledge and held his hand out to Peter. "Now, come on. We need to get you warmed up. And fast."

Peter took his hand and carefully got down, his legs not as long as Felix's, making it harder. He looked up to Felix, pulling his arms into the sleeves, glad for the warmth. "Thank you," he whispered.

Felix smiled softly down at him, wrapping his arm around Peter's shoulder and pulling him close to his side. Peter didn't know how something like this could have happened. He thought that he was going to die when he went to the bridge. He never thought he would be leaving to someone's flat with them and no intention of skipping out on them. Peter could care less what happened to his bastard, all that mattered right now, and forever more, was Felix.


End file.
